A Very Asian New Year
by Dawn96
Summary: China invited the whole Asian family for the Chinese New Year celebration and Japan had no idea what possessed him to catch a plane from Tokyo to Beijing for the occasion. First, his whole family was going to be there and second, he was going to stay cooped up with them for three whole days... The year was already starting to look bleak.
1. Chapter 1 of 5

AN: Read. Enjoy. Review. :)

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**A Very Asian New Year**

Japan fidgeted slightly in his seat, fingering the seatbelt clasped around his waist. He had never been completely comfortable with flying and never truly enjoyed aeroplanes. First there was the takeoff, then all the turbulence then the loud passengers and the nauseous churning of his stomach when he tried to drink some calming tea… Japan pursed his lips feeling bile bubble up his throat.

He was the State of Japan, _Nihon-koku_, he couldn't be overpowered by a simple elevation above sea-level-

"Japan?"

Japan snapped his eyes upwards, thankful for the distraction, before grimacing.

"What are you doing here?! I didn't expect to see you- I thought you'd be all high and mighty and sit in your wooden house under pink flowers while eating all those weird oranges, ani?"

"It is good to see you too," he replied thickly.

Be polite, his mind chanted, refrain yourself. Self control is vital and he couldn't lose it because his hyperactive brother was suddenly stuck on the same plane as him. Plus, the chance the Korean would end up sitting on the seat next to him was next to none- the plane was filled and the assignment of seats was strict- so he might as well not waste any energy for something that was bound to pass.

"Aniki invited you for New Years, right?" Korea beamed. "He invited me too! I'm telling you, aniki can't survive without me close by! His calender's completely off though… the lunar calendar didn't even start. Probably his old age crawling up on him- but Korea's here and there's nothing to fear!"

"Uh, Korea-san," Japan caught the posing Korean's attention, "you're blocking the people."

Behind Korea was a long line of Koreans who had just boarded the transit plane to China, every single one of them held off by their own nation. Korea blinked for a minute, finally registering all the noise of arguing people, pointing fingers and harassed looking stewardesses before plopping himself comfortably on the chair right next to Japan.

"Korea-san?" Japan tried to stifle the worried hammering of his heart. "Is this your designated seat?"

"Hm?" Korea looked up from where he was plugging his beats into his Samsung, "what do you mean?"

"Your seat," Japan pointed at the seat number, "does the ticket assign you this seat?"

Korea pulled out a crumpled ticket from his _I-love-Seoul_ hoodie and smoothed it out, carelessly handing it to Japan, "if you wanted something touched by the amazing me you could've just asked."

Japan bit his lip to hide a retort and found the seat number printed in a small square by the corner. 24C. Japan looked back at the number that was stuck to the armrest of seat that Korea had carelessly thrown himself on and read a clear 10B. He handed the ticket back to Korea with his best stern expression.

"Korea-san, this is not your seat."

"Of course it's my seat! I'm sitting on it!"

"No, it's not. Your ticket says 24C, this is not your seat."

"But I'm sitting on it," Korea rolled his eyes.

"But you're not allowed to."

"Who said I'm not allowed to?"

"The law."

"What law- _sesangi!_ Beak Ji Young is filming a bed scene?! How's Jung Suk Won taking it?" Korea's fingers whizzed on the screen of his S3, his mouth shamelessly gaping.

Japan stifled an annoyed groan. He was _not_ going to suffer _2 whole hours_ with Korea- he'd rather sit in a room filled with pasta-deprived Italies and a drunk Germany than sit with Korea. Hell, he could take Greece and Turkey on the brink of a fist fight than what was sure to come up.

"Korea-san, you are taking someone's rightful seat-"

"K-pop rues J-pop any day, I know you want to admit it! Listen, listen- let's see your bands get addidas advertisement, _Nihon_!" Korea laughed before forcing his screaming beats onto Japan's head.

Japan pulled away but the seatbelt reigned him in place and Korea- seatbeltless and uncaring- stood and pushed Japan against the seat, ignoring the surprised stares he was receiving from all the passengers, and thrust the beats back on, securing them with his hands as he pushed against Japan's ears. The music was blaring and Japan felt his head spin. He couldn't even understand the screaming, high-pitched words of a language he barely had a grasp on-

Oh god, he was going to faint.

He felt his eardrums burst. He could unfocusedly see Korea's laughing face, talking rapidly yet he could not hear the words.

It felt like he was drowning- then all of a sudden, he was up on the surface taking a grateful breath of air. The beats were off his ears and he collapsed back on the seat, stifling a small moan.

"Sir, the seatbelt sign is still on and you have to sit down…"

Japan never thought that a stewardess of all people would one day be his hero. He registered a quick mental note to dedicate a whole manga series to her before Korea's shearing laughter cut through his thoughts once more- laughter that made him want to pull his hair out. His ears already felt as though they had been thoroughly shredded and the added air pressure of the elevated aeroplane made him want to barf.

"Sir, please head back to your own seat-"

Japan perked up. Was it coming true? Was he going to be completely saved?

"-your ticket says you have to head to 24C, I'll accompany-"

"No! You don't understand," Korea jerked closer to the stewardess, whispering in her ear loud enough for Japan to hear, "he's an old man in denial- he thinks he's a ninja. I have to stay here or else he'll go berserk while the plane flies. Can't you see the tense shoulders? The empty stare? The wrinkles?" He winked at Japan before solemnly looking at the stewardess.

Who did Korea think he was playing at? A stupid story like that-

"Oh my god," the stewardess brought a hand to her mouth. "Just like Raizo in Ninja Assasin? When he goes off with Kiriko-"

"-and ends up killing all those who stand in his path. He even uses the ninja technique to heal his own wounds," he gave the pale stewardess a dark look, "he's indestructible and only I can save these people."

Why did he feel this was going to turn very, _very _badly?

The stewardess ran off and Korea, a bright triumphant smile on his face, threw himself back into the seat by Japan.

"See? I bet you wish you had my amazing thinking skills, _maji_?"

Seconds passed before two large security men hovered over the seats where both nations were sitting: Japan looking deathly pale and Korea head-banging to his K-pop. They scanned their sharp eyes over the two before locking them with Japan. Air pressure, airplanes, confined spaces and Korea… what had he done to deserve all of this?

"Honda Kiku?" their deep voices rumbled.

"Yes…"

Suddenly, their burly hands shot out and gripped his shoulders, forcefully hoisting him up on his feet. Japan threw a horrified look at Korea who had his eyes closed, still lost in his world of music, before trying to tug his arms out of their grip. However, they tightened their hold, their fingers threatening to burst his veins, and pulled him down the aisle.

"You have been apprehended for suspicious, unstable activity," one of them said. "You will not endanger the lives of these innocent people."

Suddenly, an exuberant round of applause sounded around the plane from the awed passengers. Little children stood up from their seats, their eyes glassy with amazement from the epic heroism that was radiating from the scene in front of them.

"This is all a misunderstanding- please- I don't even know who that man is-"

The men tugged him even harder and soon, he couldn't even catch up with their pace. If only he had done the training Germany set out for him properly- if only he had paid proper attention, maybe then he would've been able to squeeze out of this situation. He craned his head- what the hell was Korea doing while he was dragged off from the seat that was _right_ next to him-

He was clapping.

The idiot was clapping.

"Uri nara mansae!" he cheered, pumping his fist into the air. "Uri nara mansae, da-ze!"

He jaw quivered and he bit down a war cry.

He was going to turn Imperial and slaughter the lot of them.

But he contained himself. He was Nihon-koku…

He spent the next two whole hours in the front, surrounded by those two bodyguards, a psychiatrist, a doctor and a very flustered flight attendant.

* * *

He stumbled out of the plane almost an hour after it had been emptied of all the passengers. The two bodyguards literally hauled him off the ground and walked him to the security office where he was further questioned, questioned even more, had health checks done, had security checks done, got his passport photocopied, got his visa checked, got the prints of all his fingers, had a tongue print, had an eye-check, had his ID processed, was questioned further before they let him go.

Damn you Korea, he hissed, damn you.

He wrenched his suitcase from the floor and dragged it with him, not caring as it bounced on the steps of the staircases, not caring as it tripped the rushing people in Beijing Capital International Airport, not caring as it got stuck in doors, got bitten by puppies and ran on the foot of a couple too close to each other to be decent- youth, completely improper these days- until he finally reached the departing doors.

Who cares about China's whole 'New Year' get together? He was going to the farthest place from Beijing, in a small rickety hotel where no one would find him, and book himself the next flight to Tokyo.

"Japan!"

That voice.

He turned and saw a hyperactive Korea waving ecstatically from where he stood by the departures, his suitcase lounging beside him, his beats hung around his neck making him look like the epitome of causality. Japan marched towards him, his suitcase rumbling behind him darkly, and his clenched his fingers ready to sock the Korean in the face. Hard.

"What took you so long? It's so not cool to keep people waiting! Aren't you all about manners and all-"

"YOU-"

"Yo."

Japan clamped his mouth shut, steam building inside of him like an unstable cooker, his face scorching. Craning his head stiffly to the side, he locked eyes with the bored orbs of Hong Kong who loitered by the metal banister, arms crossed over his neon shirt that was too bright to be legal. Great, his grimaced mentally, now he remembered why he always avoided family visits.

"Hong Kong-san," he stiffly bowed his head in quick greeting. "Good to see you."

"Same, I guess," Hong Kong shrugged nonchalantly.

Korea slung an arm around the Chinese and at that moment, Japan noticed how much taller the two were. Great. Another bright observation on his increasingly terrible day.

"Come on Japan! You're already late, so don't delay us any further! Nuisance~!" sang Korea teasingly.

"Excuse me, but you're the one-"

"You're excused," Hong Kong smirked.

Japan flushed, his poorly concealed glare aimed at the two.

"I am merely saying that if it wasn't for your _story_ then I wouldn't have been needlessly apprehended-"

"Did you hear SHINee's latest album? I showed it to Japan and he went crazy for it!" Korea fumbled with his S3 and he pulled the Chinese along with him, "also G-Dragon's making a comeback that's making America go wild! Have any idea how I can pull that hairstyle…"

Japan gripped his suitcase with tense fingers, watching their retreating backs, and felt this sharp sting in his chest. He didn't know what it was, but it hurt. Who cares, he thought as he walked off towards the taxi's stationed by the front. Who cares? He was going to head back to Tokyo tomorrow anyway-

"Hey! Japan! It's this way! Did you go blind or something?" Korea's voice had this amazing ability to tear through an overpopulated crowd of incoherent voices.

He tilted his head slightly. What was he on about? He had just been on the most uncomfortable plane ride yet, been delayed for almost three extra hours, had to suffer through multiple checks and terrorist assumptions before finding the most annoying people on the planet being the first to 'greet' him. He was not in a good mood.

Before he said a word back, Hong Kong materialized by his side and pulled the suitcase from his grip.

"Turning into a gramps like China are we?" he said.

Though it was meant to be light teasing, Japan could hear a slight maliciousness in the teen's voice. He ignored it, he guessed he just didn't understand the youth these days after all, yet spluttered indignantly when Hong Kong simply walked off without further explanation.

"Wait, where are you going? The cabs are this way-"

"Hong Kong came to pick me up," Korea yelled as he threw in his suitcase into a small car parked close by. "He's driving us to, aniki! I thought you were smart, Japan- all your sushi getting to your head? Oh well, intelligence originated in Korea!"

"Please, Hong Kong-san, I am very capable of finding my way to China by myself-"

He didn't want to get stuck in a car with _both_ of them. The awkwardness would soar to the skies and he didn't think he could stomach anymore of Korea than he already did in the plane. Knowing the Korean, he'd probably get Japan thrown into a prison cell for being called a ninja on the loose! He needed to get as far away as possible from them- maybe if he called up Germany with an SOS he'd be saved-

His suitcase was thrown in and he was shoved into the backseat, the door slamming surely behind him and locked. What was this blatant kidnapping?!

Korea shuffled into the passenger seat in the front while Hong Kong slipped into the driver's seat, starting up the engine.

And now Hong Kong was going to drive?!

God, what did he do? What did he do wrong to deserve all this-

"_AEEHH!"_ he screeched as the car jerked backwards, almost slamming into a hoard of tourists that scattered away like ants.

"Sorry," Hong Kong said offhandedly, "wrong gear."

Suddenly the car jerked forward, running over the concrete and Japan fumbled for the seatbelt. The engine roared and the car jerked once more- throwing the Japanese against the window- before it pelted over the concrete, the view blurring.

"Hong Kong!" Japan's voice was an octave higher. "The people-"

Suddenly, music blared from the radio, pounding against Japan's head.

"PSY!" Korea exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "_NA JE NUN NO MAN KUM TA SA RO UN GU RON SA NA YE-_

Hong Kong slammed into a trash can which bounced dangerously on the screen before flying overhead, scattering rubbish all over them like putrid rain.

" _BA MI O MYON SHIM JA NGI TO JYO BO RI NUN SA NA YE-"_

Hong Kong rolled down his window and, to Japan's horror, coolly lifted out his hand and finger a screaming policeman.

"_A RUM DE WO SA RANG SU RO WO G RE NO, _HEY! _GU RE BA RO NO, _HEY!"

Hong Kong suddenly swerved around a sharp bend and raucously knocked into the traffic cones before driving down the opposite lane. He sharply jerked the car away from oppositely driving cars, their drivers swearing at him in harsh Chinese.

"_A REUM DE WO SA RAN SU RO WO GURE NO, _HEY! _GU RE BA RO NO, _HEY!"

Japan gripped his seatbelt. He was going to die. He was going to die.

A woman leapt to the side, falling on the asphalt as to avoid the disastrous driving, her suitcase forgotten in the middle of the road as Hong Kong pelted against it, the car bouncing like a ball. Japan cushioned his head with his hands just in time before it slammed against the roof of the car while Korea rolled down his window and waved his arms freely in the air.

"_JI GUM BU TO GAL DE KA JU GA BOL KA-"_

Another wrench and the car broke through a chained, blocked road before flying over the concrete and swerving into the highway.

"_OPPAN GANGNAM STYLE!"_

* * *

Japan unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, rubbed his stiff neck and leaned back.

Two hours passed and they were stuck in traffic.

After Hong Kong tore through the roads and endangered the lives of more than fifty people, he was finally stopped by the inescapable and infamous Chinese traffic. Initially, Japan thanked every single ancestor he could think of for this blessing. Two hours later, he wished for an open road and a safe drive through it. He could've sworn his behind had flattened by now.

The windows were rolled open, letting in cold, piercing weather and the radio was screaming Arctic Monkeys.

While the two 'conversed' in the front, they didn't exchange a single word with him nor he with them. He caught Hong Kong's eyes looking at him from the rear view mirror a few times and Korea turn back to catch a quick look at him, but nothing more than that.

He wished he was back home, by himself, or with Germany and Italy at least. Though they were westerners, completely different from himself, they grew to become close to him. If anything, they were what he would call _friends_ and even _family_ at times. However, his _own true_ family- the rest of the Asian clan that shared his ancient blood- seemed like strangers at that moment.

Seemed so distant.

Seemed so…

"Goddamn the traffic laws," Hong Kong muttered.

Japan looked up from where he was lazily scrolling through his flip-phone before he was thrown to the side once more. He could feel his blood pressure rising and the dread of what was happening creep up his spine once more. Taking a peak out the window, to his terror, he could not see the cars any more. Heck, he couldn't even see the road.

"This is what I call taking a breath of fresh air!"

Korea had his body half outside the window as he waved his arms in the air, screaming in the cluster of trees that surrounded them.

"Hong Kong-kun, w-where are we-"

"_You are currently driving on an unregistered road. Please turn left to get to the main highway-" _ the navigator spoke up.

Clusters of trees and growth squeezed became narrower and narrower- squeezing in- and boulders acted as ignored road bumps that made the car recoil. A high scream- Japan felt his bones grate- and Korea was tugged in by Hong Kong before he was beheaded by a low branch of some ancient tree.

"I owe you a life debt now! That is so cool- I thought it only happens in movies!" Korea laughed, as he sat back, throwing his legs on the headboard like they were cruising.

"Totally," Hong Kong nodded as he pushed down on the accelerator, leaning forward slightly, "You can so get me 100 embarrassing pictures of Gramps to make it up to me, and 5 different videos of him when he throws his back."

"You're cruel!" laughed Korea.

The car suddenly stopped and Japan was slammed against the seat in front of him before his seatbelt reigned him back, banging his head against his own seat. He shakily gripped the armrest, his mind on the brink of a mental breakdown as his eyes pricked with uncontrollable fear. He wanted to run out- he had enough- he wanted to run out-

"_Xiang! _What was that for?!" Korea yelled.

His bottom was hung between the seat and the car floor, his legs hoisted high above him. He tried to push himself up- failing a few times- before rolling to the side, poking the teen on the shoulder. Hong Kong was frozen in his seat, his eyes eerily wide and shocked, his mouth limp on his pale, pale face. Japan felt the panic inside him reside, slowly die down, before slight concern crept on him.

"I almost slammed into a hedgehog," Hong Kong breathed.

He threw his head against the steering wheel and gave a shaky sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness I stopped. Offending their demon souls is bad luck."

Japan bit back a scream. These idiots were sending him off the edge.

Korea's expression was a dumbfounded shock of disgust. His eyebrows were raised, his mouth was skewed with his tongue on the tip of lolling and his eyes screamed 'are you really that stupid?'.

"What about the million other animals you drove over?" Japan hissed irritably.

Hong Kong gave him a withering glare from the rear view mirror and Japan held his annoyed stare. Who did this child think he was playing? He had gone through a hellish day and he'd be damned if he'd bend over for a kid who couldn't keep his car in a straight lane to try and up him. Korea shrunk slightly from the tension, his eyes running from one Asian to the next before laughing uneasily.

"How about we keep going… don't want to keep aniki waiting, you know!"

Hong Kong pressed on the accelerator, his eyes still boring into Japan's, before purposely swerving the car even more harshly than usual around the small hedgehog (that innocently blinked at the tension that was rolling off the car) before continuing his way through the forestry they had somehow found themselves in. Japan sat back, stifling his sigh, and gripped the armrest tightly with both unease and agitation.

He _really_ hated family gatherings.

* * *

The ride was slightly smoother than the previous journey- there was a lack of sudden stops- before Hong Kong was on an actually road once again. Japan almost let go of a thankful prayer before Hong Kong steered off the road once more. Did he do this on purpose?

However, Japan noticed a small house appearing in the distance in the midst of a great expansion of soft, white snow and far behind it, stepped mountains that were unmistakably paddy fields of rice that were now coated in the winter. They were far out into the country…

Had he been by himself he would've drove straight to China's apartment in Beijing and find the place empty, his trip wasted, his body sore and cold and his night filled with trying to check into filled hotels. He bit his lip. He never knew he'd silently thank the lord for seeing Korea or being driven by Hong Kong. Hong Kong suddenly bounced over fallen logs and Japan quickly withdrew the prayer. That kid was really pushing it…

Hong Kong sped down the dirt road- dangerously slippery- Korea egging him to drive over the hills. Seeing Japan's pale face, Hong Kong smirked and steered down the snow, speeding as if he was driving a Ferarri in broad daylight and not China's Geely Panda down slippery slopes of ice. Soon enough, the car skidded to a stop and the locks were clicked open.

He pushed the door open- he'd have a proper thanking tonight for actually _surviving_- before he collapsed outside. His legs were shaky and his stomach churned.

Oh no- he was not going to vomit. He was not going to vomit. He was not-

_Thunk_.

He found his suitcase in front of him. Looking up, squinting, Hong Kong's tall form towered over him.

"I'm sure you can, like, carry your own bag," he smirked before walking off, his keys dangling playfully from his fingers.

Calm down, Japan, he chided himself. He's just a conceited teenager going through a very difficult stage; it is completely improper and immature to get worked up over something so trivial. He staggered to a stand, gripping the Geely for support before he was confident enough to let go. He gripped his suitcase and started to make his way to the house in front of him-

"Aniki!" Korea screamed, running across porch.

China stood, horror-stricken, by the door, his face the picture of disbelief.

"_HONG KONG! What did you do to my car?!"_

Car? Japan turned back and noticed, for the first time, that the shining white Geely Panda that had picked them up earlier was now scratched, stained, dented and detached. Even the plate number was missing.

Korea paid no attention to the steaming car, throwing himself on China and rubbing at the smaller man's chest wildly. China, caught between a hyperactive Korean and a completely destroyed car, tried to yell at both Korea and the indifferent Hong Kong at the same time resulting in complete nonsensical exclamations, and all Japan could do was stand and watch the maniacal display of 'welcome'.

He was stuck with _them_ for three whole days?


	2. Chapter 2 of 5

AN: Thanks for all the favourites, all the alerts, all the reads and definitely all the reviews :) Hope this chapter was worth the wait! :D

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**A Very Asian New Year**

Japan rubbed the towel on his wet hair before drying the clean nape of his neck. The sun was rising, smiling through the cold winter with a faint, fresh blush that made the ice sparkle against the window like small diamonds. His limbs were freshened by the stretches and his skin felt invigorated from the steaming water… if anything, the day seemed to start off quite well. He shrugged on his turtleneck and slipped on his socks before making his way towards the window, gazing at the wide expanse.

However, something caught his eyes.

China was by a great, bare oak and behind him lined up Hong Kong, Taiwan and Korea. He was telling them something- his voice a blur to him- and they followed his steps, Korea more exaggeratedly than the others.

Tai Chi.

They were practicing Tai Chi.

When they were younger- a time Hong Kong would speak Mandarin, both Koreas were together and Vietnam wasn't so ruined- they would practice Tai Chi every morning before breakfast, be it under the sun or under the large bamboo shades as they listened to pitter-patter of the rain. It had always been magical, the soothing tones of China's voice, the giggles of cheekiness from both Koreas, the stumbles and falls of a pudgy Hong Kong, the whines and pouts of Taiwan… Even Thailand, Vietnam and Macau would stand with them, apprehensively waiting for the end so that they could play in the paddy fields while China cooked breakfast.

But things changed from those times…

Things changed drastically.

Was it so drastic that it came to a point that something as familiar as Tai Chi alongside his family was now severed?

He bit his lip, now he felt a bit hypocritical. He had complained- not out loud at least- about them, was hesitant about visiting them and didn't consider them 'family' at times… if anything, it was quite easy to dispose of them in his mind when he didn't need them. But who knew that something this simple- this _common-_ would sting?

Who cares, he forced a shrug as he placed his towel on the bed. It wasn't like Tai Chi was anything special. He already did his morning exercises and it didn't matter if he did it in the sole emptiness of his room.

He unlocked his door and stepped out, making sure his phone was securely tucked in his pocket, before making his way downstairs. He'd find a small, quiet place to sit and avoid them all day… perhaps he'd call up Germany or Italy, they were bound to have something that would take his mind off the awkward situation he had brought upon himself.

"Japan!"

Korea threw himself on him, laughing maniacally as he wildly mussed Japan's hair before giving him a nice, hard pinch on the chest. Japan pushed him off, not caring as Korea almost flipped over the banister, rubbing his throbbed front.

"About time you woke up! Your old age _is_ crawling up your skin- can't even wake up on time! South Korea, ten, Japan, minus one hundred!" Korea laughed, completely unperturbed.

"What are you talking about?"

Only Korea could get him irritated this early in the morning.

"Points of youth, da-ze," Korea nodded importantly. "Instead of fighting to be the older brother, I'm going to be the _younger_ brother since I'll live longer, be healthier and look better forever!"

"Automatic bonus points to pick on you too." Hong Kong just entered the house, hanging his coat on the hanger, an annoying smirk on his young face.

"I'm the younger brother in looks, the older brother in mind," Korea said smartly, sticking his nose in the air.

"More like an old man in drive and a young boy in experience."

"Hey!"

Japan felt a small blush run up his cheeks… he _really _started to doubt England's parental skills.

"At least I've got experience, unlike some culturally-confused, inexperienced, teenaged sissy!"

"Molesting your doll doesn't count as experience."

"Kimchiball is _not_ a doll! It's a plushie-action figure!"

"That doesn't exist."

"Yes it does! Because it originated in Korea!"

Japan took the moment to tiptoe around them, squeezing himself between the wall and Korea's manic hand gestures, and slip into the doorway. Which doorway did he slip into? He really had no idea… However, the wafting smell of freshly cooked rice, warm porridge and the sizzling sounds of deep fried minced shrimp made him realize it was the kitchen.

"_Zǎo ān, _Japan, aru!" China greeted him cheerfully from where he stood by the stove. His wok was on the fire and his arms moved professionally between each pan, his chopsticks stained with dripping sauces.

"Good morning, China," he gave a short bow.

The kitchen was simple, nothing too fancy, and the table was already set. Perhaps there was something he could do to help- or to keep him occupied instead of standing like a pole in the middle of the room. Perhaps he could make some green tea… a kettle was already boiling. Maybe there was some dishes to tend to… the sink was clean and shining.

"Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"Can you look over the fried rice? I need to bring out the plates."

Japan nodded, systematically making his way to the stove and picking out the chopsticks left on the side. He stirred, shook and mixed, making sure the brown grains didn't burn while China picked out the cups and saucers from the drawers. He bent down to bring out the large serving plates-

_CRACK_

Japan stiffened.

There was a sudden flash before Korea rocketed out of the doorway. China was frozen from where he bent over to reach the plates, his face flushed and his veins pulsing on his forehead. Japan quickly shut the fire, dashing to the older nation, before he realized he was completely helpless. How on earth was he supposed to deal with someone who threw his back?

Korea, however, was running around them in hysterical circles, screaming bloody murderer before he pulled out his phone, punched in some numbers and screamed at the opposite line.

"_AMBULANCE! 911! AMBULANCE! Our old man threw his back- he's going to die! He looks young but I knew he was old and I let him make the kimchi when I could've done it perfectly on my own- but now he's dying and it's all Nihon's fault-"_

"Korea-san, calm down-" Japan tried, as he placed a hand on China's quaking shoulder. "China-san? Can you walk? I'll take you to your room-

"_-and now he wants to sexually harass aniki! What is this horror in humanity?! 911- call 911-"_

"Tell…" China winced, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe. "Tell…"

"China-san? China-san please, tell me what to do-" Japan bent down, trying to meet the older nation's eyes. His nerves were flaring and Korea's incessant panic was not doing him any favours. "Should I take you to your room? Should I-"

"_Help! Nagasaki! Namahage! 911- the ambulance! Aniki is sentenced for human trafficking- hurry- I'm too beautiful-"_

"Korea-san, please calm down!" Japan tried to raise his voice over the wailings of his younger brother, "You are not helping China-san with your panicking! If you would just help me carry him to his room-"

"_-HE'S INTO THREESOMES! HE'S INTO THREESOMES! WE'RE DOOMED-"_

"Like, who set the house on fire?" Hong Kong peered through the door.

Japan could've cried with relief. "Hong Kong-san, China-san threw his back- if you'd help me take him to his room-"

"Why so worried?" Hong Kong coolly made his way into the kitchen, ducking as Korea threw a large ornament duck at his head. "Gramps throws his back all the time."

"_-IT'S A FOURSOME- IT'S A FOURSOME NOW- I CAN'T TAKE IT-"_

Hong Kong grabbed China from where he was bent over and made him stand against the table, as simply as if he was carrying a chair. He analyzed the scene, as though taking in the angles and calculating the force before he stood back and placed a knee under China's stomach.

"-_I'm an innocent soul- all this kinky foreplay is too much-"_

"Hong Kong-san," Japan felt his eyes widen, "w-what are you doing?"

"My martial arts are a bit rusty," he said as he rolled up his sleeves, "but I think this'll do."

"W-wait," China panted from where he was bent over like a stiff, wooden table, "S-stop- d-don't-"

"Breathe gramps, cuz it's gonna hurt."

"Hong Kong-san," Japan edged forward, his arms raised as if he was talking to a mental patient, "please bring your hands down. We can solve this in another way-"

"What other way?" Hong Kong replied, resting his arms on China's back in the most careless of manners, "the nearest hospital is hours away, plus, we forgot to bring in his medications." Hong Kong peered at China's face, "You should really, like, be more responsible gramps. Your old age is, like, no excuse,"

Suddenly, the doorway slammed open once more- why couldn't anything be peaceful today?- and a flushed Taiwan stood, wearing the most ridiculous outfit Japan had ever seen in his entire life. It was a crossing between Sailor Moon and Gundam Wing along with bright pink bunny ears and large cat slippers that squeaked with every step she took. To add to her ridiculousness was the stern, angered scowl and the serious knit of her eyebrows.

"Your racket is disrupting my photo shoot!" she stomped a foot, "I can't concentrate on my poses!"

Her eyes locked with Japan's and she shrunk back, her face tomato red.

"Only Taiwan needs to concentrate to flex properly," Hong Kong rolled his eyes.

She snapped her gaze away from him, her face was still steaming, and glared at the Chinese teen.

"I heard that! You should really stop with the perverted jokes, they're getting lame."

"Probably because he's sexually deprived, so he wants to vent it out on everyone!" Korea stopped, mid-panic, to glare at the teen.

Hong Kong merely rolled his eyes once more, "the pains of sitting with minors."

"Like you're one to talk!" Taiwan screeched, "you're the youngest here-"

"A position already taken by Korea," Hong Kong motioned grandly with his left arm while the other rested on China's back like an armrest. "So, I automatically take his place in the family line which makes me older than you as well." He took a sweeping glance at his nails, "and if you add my experience of living abroad, it makes me older than gramps here. Therefore, I'm the head of the family."

A heavy silence shadowed them and for that moment, nothing moved.

Japan felt his lips wince. What on earth had become of Hong Kong?

_CRACK_

A gut-wrenching scream followed, so loud that it echoed in the vast, white planes around the house and rebounded off the wooden walls.

"Up you go gramps, time for bed," Hong Kong ushered a cursing China out the kitchen, his footsteps fading into the house.

Japan watched the whole scene with slight confusion and felt his silence shared with the other two occupants in the room.

"_-hello? Is someone there? Hello?" _

There was a sharp crinkling as the deep voice radiated off Korea's phone, who blinked at the screen then shut it, pocketing it back into his jacket. Taiwan fidgeted from where she stood, her bright pink wig falling to the side since it wasn't properly clasped, while Korea shuffled his feet from side to side. Japan felt this tug- this pull in his heart- to actually do _something_ with the two of them. Anything really, just to ease up the situation that had just leapt out of nowhere.

However, as usual, he found himself walking towards the doorway, ready to leave them alone and lock himself in his own solitude. As he always did.

He locked the door to his room and sat by his bed, fingering his phone before setting it down. It was a mistake, he thought sourly, as he stared at the empty walls of his room. He should've stayed downstairs… he shouldn't have come back up. Now, he was going to be stuck here for hours, mulling over what happened and what he should've done until he was sick.

It's not like they'd call him downstairs anyway. He was completely forgotten for their morning Tai Chi and since he bailed on them and went right up after the manic fiasco, he doubted they'd call him for anything else. What a way to make amends, eh Kiku?

_Knock knock knock._

"Japan?"

He dashed off his bed, yet quickly composed himself, before opening the door. Taiwan shyly stood by the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her, a small smile on her face.

"Taiwan-chan," he bowed slightly, "is there anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, yes," she beamed. "Korea and I thought we'd make breakfast until China gets better. I thought… perhaps you'd like to help?"

He blinked for a minute.

Yes, his mind immediately answered. Yes! His heart pumped greedily. He wanted to. He _truly_ wanted to. He _desperately_ wanted to fix the things he broke- even if he had no idea where, no idea how and no idea what they were. But he wanted to. His mouth broke into a small smile before he held himself and shrunk back.

He couldn't show them he was guilty- he couldn't show them what he truly felt because they'd use it against him and he'd collapse. All this composure and all this collective coolness that he built up- this perfectly crafted mask of indifference- he couldn't risk breaking it to the people he didn't know whether he loved or hated. He straightened his lips and tensed his back upright, using his best neutral tone.

"I'm afraid something has come up and I can't do that right now."

"Oh," she frowned for a second before her smile was quick to clear it up. "I see… well then, we'll be downstairs if you're free."

He closed the door behind her and rested his back against it, noticing, for the first time, that his heart was hammering. He could hear the blood rush into his head and the adrenaline burst into his fingers, making them tremble. That was stupid, he thought.

"No," he said fiercely, "that was the right thing to do. Emotion must not be shown."

He pulled out his laptop and plugged it into the socket by the desk, wiping the dust from the surface with the sleeve of his shirt. As he waited for the system to load, he cast his eyes at the cold window, fogged with mist as its iced frame glittered like crystals. Korea's smiling face, Hong Kong's teasing eyes, Taiwan's smile and China's attempts to try… they were all piercing him like sharp, poisoned needles, making him feel guiltier and guiltier with each passing second.

He knew that he'd be gone from this house before New Years had the chance to rise.


	3. Chapter 3 of 5

**A Very Asian New Year**

He taped the small Chinese lantern on the lining, next to a whole brotherhood of crimson lanterns. Korea wanted the lining to be exceptionally long- hence, Chinese lanterns were now dangling from tree to tree, from bush to bush and from wooden column to column- yet China wanted it to be traditional- so they were all completely red- but Hong Kong wanted it westernized- so they had captions written all across the paper- and Taiwan wanted it to be cute- Panda ears jutted out of the lamps- and all Japan could do was try to put the whole thing together.

"Da-ze! The house looks alive!" laughed Korea.

He was standing far out in the distance beside some large tree he had excessively decorated with Chinese lanterns, looping them around until one was fit like some star on a Christmas tree at the very top.

"Korea-san, I'm not sure Chinese lanterns were meant to go on trees like that…"

"What did you say?" screamed Korea, cupping a hand around his ear, "I can't hear you! Do you want to tape more lanterns?"

"No!"

His fingers were bleeding from papercuts and Hong Kong had thought it funny to stick double-sided sticky tape in his hair when he wasn't looking. He wasn't going to go on a lantern spree!

"Yes we will! Aniki will be over-joyed thanks to me- because joy originated in Korea!" Korea stuck his hands to his hips, letting out a hearty laugh, "Hey! Let's decorate that tree over there- hey! Japan! Where are you going?"

Japan set down the duct tape and scissors. If Korea wanted to tape more lanterns, he could very well do it himself.

"Someone's not in the New Year spirit."

Japan internally grimaced. Hong Kong decided to make an appearance, blocking off his exit, with a blank- yet somehow conceited- look on his face.

"Hong Kong-san, if you'll excuse me-"

"What if I don't excuse you, what'll you do then?" Hong Kong titled his head as he crossed his arms, cocking a brow.

Japan kept his gaze, his eyes not wavering from the teen. He could easily shut the boy up with a very snarky remark- he could keep the teen as far away as possible from him- but Japan trained himself to keep control. He wasn't going to lose it because some teenager had some hormonal imbalance.

"Come on, _Nihon_," Hong Kong took a step closer to him-

Japan pushed past him with a loud, irritated sigh, slamming the door behind him as soon as he got in. Shudders ran up his spine- he _hated_ it when someone invaded his personal space- _just hated it_. He gave another shudder, shaking his head, trying to clear the buzzing in his mind.

"Japan-aru!"

Why couldn't anyone leave him alone?

"China-san," Japan gave a small, curt nod.

China, a wide smile on his face, dashed towards him, radiating pure, gleeful energy.

"How's your back? I hope it's not too painful."

"Oh, it's nothing!" China waved him off, "how about we go to the kitchen for some tea? You look quite worn out-aru."

"I've spent the whole afternoon with Korea-san."

"Ah," an uncharacteristically gloomy expression washed over China's face, "of course. I understand." But then, he quickly perked up, "off to the kitchen! I've made strong herbal tree that'll calm all your nerves- with secret Chinese ingredient-aru!"

Japan felt China's small, thin fingers grip his shoulders and push him in the direction of the kitchen and decided to go along with it. At this point, tea sounded nice and with Korea outside- with Hong Kong, thank goodness- that meant the house was bound to be peaceful. At last.

As China brought the kettle over to the table- steaming from the spout- and poured the dark tea into their small cups, Japan tightened the blanket he draped around himself from the cold. The windows showed the wide plane of fresh white and the pale skies of blue-grey, while the coldness felt welcoming as long as he felt warm enough under the wool. It felt… quite nice.

He felt a small smile on his lips and brushed his fingers against it.

China sat opposite him with his own cup, blanket and signature panda, positively glowing.

"China-san, do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

"You're finally seeking advice from me?" China stood, "of course, Japan! As the older brother, I have experience in almost everything you want to know. Don't be embarrassed-aru! We're all family!"

All initial serenity trickled away and he fought hard to keep the small smile on his face.

"It's… It's nothing."

China's face fell and he slowly lowered himself back into his chair.

"Are you sure-aru? I'm sure I can help."

"No, it's alright," Japan shook his head.

The room felt colder and the walls unwelcoming, all previous warmth dissipated and nonexistent. But he'd make use of the solitude, he thought as he gripped the tea cup between his cold fingers, he'd make use of the peace. He was so used to meditating throughout his empty house, enjoying the silence and watching as both people and nature would go on through the day. He was so used to the lack of noise, lack of people and lack of activity in his house.

So used to the loneliness…?

Japan's grip tightened. He bit at his lip.

Why was he thinking like this? Usually, these thoughts never crossed his mind. In a few days, things would go back to normal- including his path of thoughts.

"AIEEEEEEEE!"

A high-pitched screech made him grate his teeth. His ears began to ring and his shoulders tensed. _Why couldn't anything be quiet-_

"_I missed you so much! You'll never guess who's here as well!"_ Taiwan's voice would've reached the cities by now.

The sound of the door slamming shut and footsteps coming into the house were overpowered by Taiwan's rambling. Japan rubbed his forehead and China muttered about adding more tea leaves. By the doorway stood a stern looking Vietnam and a calm, happy looking Macau. Japan immediately stood up in respect for his older sister and gave her a curt bow.

"Vietnam-san."

"Hey Japan," she nodded back with a slight wave, "lookin' well. So, China, where's my room?"

Why exactly did she bring her paddle?

Macau came to him as well, shaking his hand firmly and smiling softly as he exchanged calm words. It felt good to finally have someone sane and normal in the house- someone with interests that were actually _valid_ and didn't include fireworks, cosplays, breasts and tea leaves.

"It's nice to have everything coated in snow," Macau said as he looked at the window, "makes it feel like a new beginning is just underneath, _certo?_"

"Yes," Japan agreed as he lowered himself back into his seat, "it's a good thought."

As China bustled out of the kitchen with Vietnam, her face as unamused and as stern as it always was, Japan turned to face the Chinese man.

"Thailand didn't come with you?"

"Thailand? Not really," Macau shook his head, "he said he might but he most probably won't. Toto rampaged and destroyed half his house so all his energy's devoted to fixing it up before the new year."

Ah… Toto. Thailand's pet elephant. The Thai was incredibly infatuated with it and had a ridiculous habit of bringing him along wherever he went.

"Leon? Not going to welcome _seu irmão?_" Macau smiled.

Hong Kong stopped right as he was about to pass the doorway to the kitchen, his neutral expression slightly broken with slight surprise. A fond, genuine smile lit up the teen's face- something Japan never noted seeing in his life. He gripped the taller teen in a strong embrace, mumbling in a mixture of thickly accented Chinese and English. Macua squeezed his brother just as tightly, replying in his own mixture of Portuguese and Chinese.

He felt completely awkward, just sitting there while the two of them stood, completely unaware of him. The display of... affection, could he call it? Whatever it was, it felt quite foreign to him. China was his own older brother, yet he would never walk up to him and grip him in a tight, joyous hug or have his face split into a smile the moment he saw him. Whether it was for a day to twenty years... he'd never welcome China in that way.

Was something wrong with him?

"You're bunking with me, yeah? Where's your luggage? I'll grab it for you..."

Japan twiddled his thumbs yet felt Macau's eyes lingering on his questioningly. However, the moment he looked back up he faced the vacant, empty kitchen. He ran his fingers over the rim of his tea cup that was now cold, before setting it down and sitting heavily against the chair.

It was quiet and he was alone- just the way he liked it.

Right?

* * *

"Why do I have a feeling you've been teasing Japan a bit too maliciously these days?"

Hong Kong innocently looked up from where he had placed his brother's luggage by the foot of the bed they were going to share.

"What do you mean?"

"We may have lived apart, but I know you through and through," Macau said, a knowing, secret smile on his face as he moved towards the window.

Small flakes, like salt grains, started to flutter from the skies to the cold ground. He could see Hong Kong standing behind him from the reflection on the mirror, his eyes downcast as he was going through some really quick thinking.

"Who drove?"

So this was how he wanted to play?

"I did," he turned, his usual smile on his face, "If Vietnam drove we would've run over entire towns."

"As if you're any better," muttered Hong Kong.

Hong Kong pulled out his phone, his fingers scrolling on the screen. Though it may look like a casual gesture to any passerby, Macau knew differently. The way his brother's lower lip hung, the crease on the brow and the sulking eyes were too hard for him to miss.

"Leon-"

"Am I Leon or Xiang?" Hong Kong's voice felt misplaced, yet Macau could now remember that little boy, too small to be taken worlds away. "Because you call me Leon, but Korea and Gramps call me Xiang and I bet Japan calls me _Gyaru-o hanjian _or plain old _Ianfu-"_

"Hong Kong-!"

Hong Kong snapped his mouth shut and turned his face away, his eyes dangerously narrowed and his mouth quivering. This was supposed to be a new years celebration, yet old wounds did not want to be healed, did they? Old

"You understand, right? What I mean."

He knew his brother held a grudge- they all did- but there was something else that Hong Kong was pointing at, wasn't he? Something else he wanted him to understand. Looking at how unhappy his twin was, he didn't have the heart to tell him no.

"I've bought you snacks from Koi Kei Bakery," Macau said as he tugged open his luggage on the floor, grinning as his brother's face brightened slightly. "Apparently there's two open in your house now."

"Bloody lie that is, else I would've know-"

The door burst open and Hong Kong immediately shut the trunk, clasping it's lock in a speed that would've made burglar's cry. Korea flew out of the doorway, in his usual cheers and nonsensical blathering, throwing himself onto Macau and squeezing him ever so tightly, swinging the man- more like swaying him- from side to side.

"Your breasts got firmer, eh? What's your secret? Tell us so aniki can take care of those sagging sacks of his!"

"Im Yong Soo, good to see you too," Macau gently pushed off the fingers that poked at his chest, calmly stepping to the side.

"You bought from Koi Kei Bakery_?!" _Korea gasped, pushing Macau aside and dashing towards the trunk on the floor.

Hong Kong shielded it, crossing his arms and shaking his head, "you finished my whole batch of egg rolls, so, you can like, totally forget it."

"That was only _four times_, da-ze!" Korea stomped. "And you have the stupid bakery in your city as well!"

"I think I know my country more than you do, and I know I don't-"

"I bet Macau got me a share as well, right?"

Macau blinked before quickly nodding, "of course I did."

Korea fist-pumped but Hong Kong continued with his blank stare. "He's lying because he's too nice to tell you otherwise."

"He was not!"

"Yes he was."

"Was not!"

"Yes, he was."

"Was not, da-ze! You wait, one day, when Hyung-Soo will-"

Korea froze from where he was posed, his hand limply fallen to his side, his eyes ever so wide and ever so dry, yet unseeing. He then jaggedly straightened up- all angular and all stiff- and pressed his lips together in a tight, tight line while his eyes remained rooted to that spot on the floor.

Hong Kong slowly stood up-

"I've got Black Ops in my room," Korea suddenly beamed, "want to play?"

Hong Kong sent him a sharp look before looking back at the Korean and nodding, leaving the locked luggage behind him as he made his way out the door.

"Not coming, Macau?"

"It's alright, I have to unpack," he replied.

"Suit yourself, da-ze!" Korea's laugh was louder than usual, yet definitely cracked.

As he shut the door behind them, a sad smile lifted the corners of his lips.

What a happy occasion this was, wasn't it?

* * *

Korea's mood worsened considerably after that day. He confined himself to his room with cups of instant noodles as his speakers screamed out gunfire and splattering organs.

Japan paced across the front of the room, debating with himself as to whether he should go in and call him out or not. China tried to go in before him and resulted in a the door being slammed in his face and Hong Kong lazily challenged Japan to get the moping Korean himself as a measure of his Asian manliness- much to the disapproval of Macau. So, here he was, trying to convince himself that he was _not_ under the influence of a silly, teenage jibe and because he wanted to look out for the wellbeing of his younger brother.

He grimaced.

Sighing, he knocked the door and waited. He knocked once more. Once more-

"_DAMMIT! I WAS IN THE BOSS LEVEL YOU SCUM OF THE EARTH- I WAS WINNING- MY. CONCENTRATION. YOU._ _SAEKKI-"_

Japan found himself face to face with a pink-faced Korean, panting as if he had run a marathon. He stank of instant noodles and Japan found a few bottles of Korean beer lying in the corners. He would question their origins later- Korean beer in the middle of the Chinese countryside?- and curtly bowed.

"I apologize for intruding, but-"

"_THEN DON'T INTRUDE! DA-ZE!"_

The door slammed and the house vibrated. Japan blinked for a few seconds, wondering how his nose didn't get fractured, before he turned to find Hong Kong smirking cheekily against the banister.

"Like, bur~rn," he snickered.

_Ok, this kid was really asking for it now-!_

"Maybe if we leave Korea alone for while, he'll eventually come down," Macau materialized, placing a hand on Japan's shoulder.

Though his face had its usual soft smile, his eyes were warning Japan to calm down. _It's ok,_ they seemed to say, _it's alright. Just let it pass_.

But till when? Japan wanted to ask. Till when did he have to suffer through Hong Kong's snarky words, through the buttons purposely pushed to get him irritated, through the clear scorn that wasn't bothered to be hidden?

A little more than a day, to be honest, an inner voice seemed to reply. Just a little while and you won't have to see the teenaged nation again. Plus, he had to keep his relations with Hong Kong as steady as he could, or else his Boss would hold him up for a nice long lecture. Japan bit his lip.

Now family relations depended on business agreements? What if Hong Kong was as useful as an empty isle, what'd he do then?

A small memory- a dark, blood-stained memory- tried to creep up to the front of his mind before he backed to the wall and shook his head. He wouldn't think about it- this is what that kid wanted. He wanted him to remember, to break and then, to…

Japan gave each of them a curt nod and swerved his way around them to the staircase, descending it as fast as his socked feet could take him, wishing nothing more than to be back in his house by the bare cherry blossom trees, drinking warm tea under the kotatsu as the snow fell.

* * *

Korea had to be dragged down by an insistent China- _I didn't cook all that food so I can throw it out the window-aru! If you get food poisoning from all that noodles then I'll have to suffer with your stupid whining-_before he was sulkily thrown by the dinner table- all laden with food- with his arms crossed and his head turned.

He dressed in a really baggy tracksuit and his glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose which seemed to suit his eccentric personality. As Taiwan and Vietnam filed in- Taiwan excitedly yapping on some flower festival while Vietnam listened with the intensity of a military general- and Macau offered his seat to the youngest female Asian-who fluttered at the 'gentleman'- while China still set more dishes on the table.

China proudly looked over his feast, his panda apron smudged and stained with the hard work, sitting by Japan who wearily shifted away.

"Let's not forget to say thanks-aru!"

A jumble of different languages ran through Japan's ears before the clicking of chopsticks commenced. They were all so different… each and every one of them. He observed them: China adding more food to everyone's plates, Vietnam spooning a lot of rice onto her plate, Taiwan beaming at him from where she sat, Macau and Hong Kong as they served switched plates every so often and then Korea, languidly running his chopsticks across the stew.

It was a lot quieter and for once… Japan didn't like it.

It was this silence he felt when they were all in his larger house, the walls stained and the corridors dank, their mouths clasped shut to save their throats. A part of him- a very tiny, miniscule part of him- worried for the Korean. Another part, slightly larger, said that Korea would be fine in mere seconds anyway. A larger part of him- one which he tried to cover up as hard as he could- selfishly wanted to erase all the guilt stains from his chest.

"Korea, how about you tell us what's wrong?"

Hong Kong sharply looked at him.

Korea seemed surprised, never expecting Japan of all people to actually _want_ to him hear him out. His chopsticks were hung midair and his mouth was slightly gaping. Before he could get a word out there was a clattering against the plate.

"Since when do you care?"

"If I didn't care, then I wouldn't have asked," Japan replied coolly, "Hong Kong-san."

"Oh," Hong Kong feigned question, "and all of a sudden you decided to care?"

The airs felt tenser and Japan forced his shoulders to relax. He wasn't going to give anyone the advantage of seeing him stiffen. Macau placed a warning hand on Hong Kong's shoulder and Japan felt China fidget uncomfortably next to him.

"I have cared for all of yo-"

His words sounded dead and tasteless in his mouth the moment they left him, and his eyes numbly looked over the plate of rice. Suddenly, there was the shearing of the chair as Hong Kong stood up and China's whipping voice commanded him to sit back down.

"We were fine before you came," Hong Kong said acidly, gripping the table with tight, trembling knuckles. "We were fine without you-"

Everything seemed colder and everything seemed grey.

"Hong Kong- sit down, aru! This is not the time-"

"We invited you because we knew you wouldn't come," Hong Kong pressed, "we didn't want you here. Why did you decide to come?"

Each word was forceful and each word stung.

"Come on, _Nihon._ Why the hell did you decide to make your way down here when we're not even worth it in your eyes?"

His accent was so thick it was whipping and Japan closed his eyes, trying to smoothen the words that were like knives in his ears. He wasn't going to lose it. He was Nihon-koku, no matter how much disdain it was uttered with on the teen's tongue. He was Nihon-koku, no matter what the other would think.

"Xiang," China stood, the air cold and rushing, "this is a time for family, so sit down-"

"Family?" scoffed Hong Kong, "what family? These secret hate treaties we have together? Let's stab each other's backs and then smile at each other's faces-?"

"Enough!"

"-let's sit down with the fucking war lord who slit our throats like dogs? Because I _hate_ this _so called damned family-_"

Japan felt his blood run cold.

Though there was a clamouring chaos against his ears, though his palm was threatening to burst, though the cutlery crashed around his feet… all he could feel was something thick and cold and gruesome- something icy and viscous crawl up against his shoulders and cloak him in the night's darkness. A feeling that wasn't foreign. A feeling he hadn't experiences in more than sixty years ago.

A feeling that his control failed to push back.

"Just because you're England's lap dog doesn't make you superior on all of us," his veins felt cold, his heart felt cold, his air felt cold, his mind felt cold, his thoughts felt cold, "so know your place."

His eyes were hooded and glinting, his face angled. He remembered this feeling- he knew it too well. It was greed and power, it was eternity and servitude, and it was the greatness yet the failure of his old Imperial self.

Let the teen say one more word- let him utter a _single_ _fucking word_- and Japan knew he wouldn't hold himself in. However, Hong Kong didn't hiss an insult from where his face had been snapped to the side, bulging and bleeding and red, nor did he utter the words of Japan's provocation. He merely looked up, brimming red eyes, and Japan felt his persona crack.

The clenched neck, the fallen shoulders and the slow breaking away of Hong Kong's self control made one thought echo through his mind.

_What did I do?_

There was a sudden rush of colour- Hong Kong storming out- China's horrorstricken face-Macau rushing after him- Vietnam's weary sigh- Taiwan's tears-

Silence.

Someone peeled the thick cloak of his shoulders and he, expecting his shoulders to feel much lighter, felt a heavy boulder settle across his chest and shoulders. His throat felt dry and clotted while his knuckles were slowly unclenching from the fists they had been curled into, blood dripping from his palms to the floor in unstable resonance.

* * *

_Quick Translation notes:_

_Saekki: Korean for 'bastard'_

_certo: (Portuguese): right?_

_seu irmao: (Portuguese) your brother_

_Gyaru-o-hanijan: An insult. Gyaru-o is a japanese term for those youths who dye their hair, listen to euro-music and all that... Hima-papa claimed that Hong Kong had that type of a persona. However, Hanijan is a deregotary term that means 'race traitor' or someone who betrayed their Chinese nation. _

_Ianfu: Japanese for 'prostitute'. A majority of them were taken from all over Asia and were stationed throughout the Japanese occupied areas such as Macau, Hong Kong, China, Korea... basically all of them. _


	4. Chapter 4 of 5

**A Very Asian New Year**

New Year was tomorrow, its eve this very day, and with the way things were headed, it was bound to be dismal. There seemed to be a grey hue shrouded on the house, its fumes rippling through the crevices and corners, ensnaring everyone in its thick silence.

Japan twiddled with his phone by his bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various apps, rereading old messages and occasionally playing a small game before he threw it down and lay back, the ceiling blankly staring back at him. He heaved a heavy sigh. He ruined it for everyone, didn't he?

He was weighed down by boulders of guilt.

He ruined it all, didn't he?

Why did he even come? They would've been better off without him anyway. A simple text message was more than enough from his side, or a fifteen second voice note. Why did he decide to ride a flight to China, get in the car with Hong Kong, sit in the same house as Korea and the rest of them? His temper got the best of him and he proved himself utterly immature- how old was he to act so childishly? To lower himself down to such a level that he literally humiliated himself in the eyes of his family?

That was, if they even accepted him anymore.

"Japan? I'm coming in, ok?"

His door smoothed open, the rubbing of the wood against the floor oh so loud in the dense, dim silence, and in stepped Korea. There was a forced smile on his face, yet it lacked the reckless cheeriness it always carried.

Japan remained on his bed, the crook of his arm covering his eyes, and wearily cursed himself for his impoliteness. As if he didn't do enough already.

He forced himself upwards and jadedly stood up, "I apologize for my rudeness."

"Uh… ok, I guess," Korea scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

He fiddled with the beats that were hung around his neck and Japan remained standing, his head turned to the window which was fogged from the cold. They stood in that silence for a few minutes, and Japan vaguely wondered- in the blankness of his mind- what the Korean could possible want. To tell him off? Yell at him as well? Tell him to leave? Pinch his breasts? Break his phone? Listen to K-pop…

"So… nice weather, da-ze?"

Japan blinked.

"Eahgh!" Korea let out a whiny sigh, plonking himself on the bed, "I hate doing stuff like this, da-ze!"

He looked up at Japan, expecting the man to ask him what it was or to shift uncomfortably from the obvious hint thrown, but found none of that. Japan looked blank and numb.

"Should I leave?"

Korea bit his lip for a minute, swaying from where he sat, before he brought his hands to his lap, quirking his lips.

"Well, you could," Korea nodded.

Japan felt a small flare in his chest- stinging and hurting and burning- and stiffened. He would not make the same mistake again. He nodded, "very well," and moved towards his closet. If that was what they wanted, then so be it. He didn't want to feel any more of a burden than he already was.

"Or," Korea continued, "you could always try to fix things, you know."

"What do you mean, fix things?"

"Ah, the burden of being an older brother," Korea shook his head, "it's all on me to solve the problems between the youth of this family, da-ze. But, responsibility originated in Korea anyway-"

"Yong Soo, get to the point," Japan snapped.

"_Im _Yong Soo!" Korea sniffed, "unlike your weird naming skills that is too lame to originate in Korea-"

Japan threw open his drawers and grabbed his pile of shirts, throwing them on the bed before aiming for his pants.

"Wait, wait, wait! Impatience did _not_ originate in Korea, da-ze! Calm down!"

"Korea," Japan turned, "look. It is best I leave. I know I have been a burden and I truly apologize. If that is all, please leave so I can pack-"

"And how are you going to get to the airport, huh?" Korea crossed his arms, cocking a brow, "did you book a plane? A hotel? A brothel? Hm?"

Japan blushed yet his words turned to a stutter.

"Who's going to drive you? Hm? Do you know the way out of here?"

Japan remained silent before he turned back to his drawers and pulled out his pile of pants and shirts.

"As long as I stop being a burden then I shall do what I must."

"_Babo!_ So you're just going to leave everyone for a miserable new year and now aniki is going to be depressed the whole 365 days because he's superstitious like that, and Macau's going to go bankrupt in his casino because he'll lose all the luck, and Taiwan's going to be voted trashiest cosplayer in this year's manga event and Xiang or Leon or whatever he calls himself is going to live with that western kid with the weird white hair- can you believe he has white hair, da-ze? Do you think he's sick? Maybe it's from the volcanoes- but shouldn't his hair be red then? And now Hyung-Soo…"

Korea stopped.

That name…to Japan, it was like a small electric jolt in his brain, a slight churning in his stomach and a twist under his skin.

"It's new years now and… I've been thinking about him a lot," Korea's voice was softer than Japan had ever heard it.

The Korean was slumped, twiddling his fingers with his eyes downcast.

"Sometimes… his name just slips from me when I'm thinking and I… because it's suppose to be time for family now and he's my… well, I think he still- I'm not sure he really think that way now because…" Korea bit his lip and the room felt colder, "I miss him, da-ze… I know he hurts me sometimes but… he's my twin. We originated together- we're one."

Japan bit his lip and hunched back, every fibre in his body becoming uncomfortable and defensive.

"You hurt us too, you know," Korea continued, pointedly looking at Japan, "you hurt us a lot."

"I know."

"You still didn't apologize."

"I know."

"I still don't forgive you."

He didn't? But Korea's expression didn't waver- that eerie confident calmness that didn't suit him at all. Japan felt the heaviness in his chest harden and bile rise up his throat. Slowly, the walls were closing in and he started to feel nauseous. He had to get out of here- he had to.

"I don't," Korea shrugged, "but… we're family. So, I'll wait for your apology just like I'll wait for Hyung-Soo to come back home."

Korea stood up, pulling his Samsung from his pocket and digging his free hand back in. The way he casually stated that showed how confident he was- how utterly sure he was of what would happen.

"Xiang's had it hard, so don't go all grampa on him- that's aniki's job!" Korea beamed, "and don't go all philosophy and crap because it's Macau's job! And don't go all awesome because it's _my job! _After all, awesomeness originated in Korea, right?"

"Well, it's, like, completely outdated."

That cool, neutral voice carried itself through the dense thickness of the room and Japan felt further dread settle into his stomach. He didn't want to see any more of them- especially not _that _kid. Should he bow and greet, as manners quoted him to or should he just ignore him because, truth be told, that was what _he_ _himself_ wanted to do?

Or should he just run a rampage, screaming and shouting like Italy would do, before they sign him into a mental hospital hence, he would register a great escape?

That didn't sound too bad…

"You've been avenged, da-ze! I paid back my life debt!" Korea laughed, "Japan was going to turn all ninja on you, slit your throat in your sleep and run to steal the Korean beer in my room that he was eyeing!"

Hong Kong walked into Japan's room, his eyes boring into the older man's orbs unwaveringly and rebelliously, his nose tipped in slight conceit. He stood a mere metre away, his arms crossed against his chest and his mouth pulled into a tight scowl.

"Hong Kong-san," Japan said flatly. It was mere acknowledgement.

Hong Kong let loose a puff of breath, "look. If it wasn't New Years tomorrow, I wouldn't have come to speak to you, just so you know."

Japan pursed his lips.

"I was going to light the firecrackers I hid under your bed, but then you'd get like, burned and we'd have to waste a whole day driving you to the hospital, so I didn't do that."

There were firecrackers… under his bed? Japan shot a quick look at the bed he had been sitting by not too long ago but quickly maintained his expression.

"So, for Gramps, I'll keep neutral with you until tomorrow and after that, we'll like, keep on the hate-fest, alright?"

"I do not hate you, Hong Kong-san."

Hong Kong cocked his head to the side a little daringly and a little disbelievingly. Now he was going to say '_well I hate you'_ or some other snarky, teenaged reply and Japan would have to keep himself in check lest he slap the kid... again. England called _this kid_ a gentleman? He was seriously doubting whatever the Englishman would say in the future.

"I know you don't, I'm not exactly stupid you know."

What was he playing at?

"I know I look like a teenager and stuff but I'm not kiddish and I like, know my way around life, ok? Just 'cause I'm an 'administrative zone' doesn't mean I'm not, like, independent myself."

Japan blinked, "what are you talking about?"

Hong Kong stiffened and his blank stare turned hard and icy. The boy bit his lip yet Japan could feel _something_ writhing inside the teen- some internal debate. Probably whether to rocket the Japanese to the sky knowing the Chinese teen's sadistic ideas of enjoyment.

"Nothing," Hong Kong huffed, "just keep it cool for Gramps, ok? You can go all 'war lord' on us later."

Don't lose control, his mind chanted. Don't lose control. Don't take those words to heart. Just ignore.

But how could he? How could he when he was constantly reminded of the things he hated- the things that made him shudder and wretch and tighten? Everything was already ruined anyway- this whole holiday was nothing but a superficial numbness over a giant, throbbing wound that was sure to bleed. He was going to leave. Why was he so hesitant before- he was getting out of this place.

He couldn't stand it.

"Don't worry," he said as coolly as he could, "I'm leaving anyway."

"You can't do that," Hong Kong said sharply.

"I will not stay where I am not wanted," Japan tried to keep his gaze, "I will not act like yesterday never happened-"

"Yesterday was your fault and now you're just going to walk out?" Hong Kong sneered.

His brittle nerves were on the brink of shattering.

"What happened to always 'caring for us'? Not working out for you-"

"Hong Kong!" his voice snapped the boy shut. For a moment- for one dreadful moment- Japan feared his control was lost once more. But he could hear his shallow breaths and feel his thrumming heart and knew that he was still the same, "I have made my stance very clear. You cannot stand me, so stop prolonging this situation and get out of the room so I can pack."

"Come on Xiang," Korea tugged at the teen's sleeve, "let's go."

But Hong Kong's eyes were silts, "you think I'm going to cower and shiver like I used to?" his voice was thin. "Well I won't, _Nihon_. You know what- you should leave. I'm sick of seeing your face here anyway."

Japan felt his phone crack and crumple into his palm, the glass piercing into his skin. However, he merely looked up, his lips curling ruefully.

"And this _child_ is what England calls a gentleman?"

He seriously thought the boy would hit him. He thought Hong Kong would flip over and sock him right in the face there and then. But he forgot that Korea was in the same room who, though he didn't look it, did have some strength to reign back an enraged, insulted teenager.

"Don't act like you know my life! Don't act like you know what I've been through-"

The voice- so furious and so desperate- wrenched his heart guilty. He was slowly slitting the ties with his family… he was creating a hatred he knew he deserved yet wanted it completely eradicated. He _wanted_ a true family- he yearned for it… yet looking at the hurt abhorrence on Hong Kong's face and the complete disappointment on Korea's, he shied away.

"_Sufficiente!"_

A clear, biting voice cut through the cold air. Macau stood by the doorway, his face contorted in an uncharacteristic display of irritation as he glared at his brother. Korea's grip on Hong Kong slackened and the teen's eyes were sharply averted, his throat clenching and unclenching, looking like an irritiated, cornered animal.

How many times had he felt that was as well, Japan thought bitterly. How many times was he cornered by nations and humans alike, with blame and anger or misery? Too many times, he decided and Hong Kong's shoulders began to slump from that strong conceit he once carried. Too many times, he decided as Hong Kong's eyes were starting to redden. Too many times…

"Haven't you done enough? I told you to speak with him, not to vent-"

But Hong Kong already stormed past him, not casting anyone a second's glance. Korea threw a quick, pointed look at Macau- 'you just _had_ to say that'- before following the teen himself.

Macau ran a weary hand over his face, slipping off his glasses for a moment, muttering something in Portuguese. Macau turned to Japan, heaving a burdened sigh before the mound of clothes caught his eyes. He gave a slow understanding nod.

"I'll drive you to the airport."

* * *

He brought down his suitcase and turned to the door, securely locking it. He leaned against the wood, taking in a deep breath, before running a hand down his face. He was back home, in Tokyo, in his silent, desolate house where the cherry blossoms were bare, the grounds were coated in bitter snow, completely alone.

Just the way he liked it, right?

He grit his teeth.

Wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

He wanted to vomit. He wanted to throw himself from the highest cliff. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He wanted to forget- he wanted to disappear- he wanted-

He fiercely pushed himself from the doorway, stormed into his living room and grabbed the nearest thing he could see. The vase crashed against the wood, shards digging into the wood like nails and screaming against the crystals with tortured, high pitched wails.

His arm felt relieved but his soul felt heavier with each passing second.

* * *

He sat on the porch by a naked cherry blossom, the cold piercing his bones underneath his thick cloak. He discarded his turtlenecks and pants for a thick kimono and an even thicker shawl that draped around his shoulders, held in place by his thin, pale hand. In the other hand, he had a small cup of hot tea that was quickly cooling in the stale air. In a few hours, the Chinese New Year would start… and he had ruined it.

By that simple visit he severed the relation between two brothers, put Korea in the midst of misery, didn't even think about how Vietnam and Taiwan would feel and selfishly ruined the one event that meant so much to China.

As if Japan hadn't hurt him enough.

Macau drove him in stilled silence and he booked the quickest plane to Tokyo the moment he stepped into the airport. He arrived by noon and stayed outside in the cold, dim night.

He could hear footsteps- crunching of shoes on the snowy pathway- before the silhouette of a youth came into view. He was wearing a thick hoodie that covered his head, jeans with his hands dug deep into its pockets and sneakers that were glimmering from the wet snow that surrounded. Whatever the youth was listening to was sharply turned off the moment he stepped into view yet Japan could've sworn he could hear Arctic Monkeys blaring from the headphones.

He paid no heed to the youth who continued to come closer, paid no heed as the slim boy took a seat next to him, paid no heed as the boy's eyes casually observed the hidden stars, his arm leaned back to hold the edge of the seat.

"Guess we both ruined it, didn't we?"

He paused, "_Hai_," he nodded softly, lowering his eyes to the steaming cup in his hands. "We did."

The silence returned, sitting between them ever so lightly.

The silence felt heavy, yet his mind null. He wasn't racing with questions on the sudden, completely unexpected appearance of the teen. He breathed in, took a small sip of the bitter tea, before looking up at the dull sky ahead.

"They all went back to China's house in Beijing," Hong Kong continued, "after you left."

"I deeply apologize."

"Sure you…" Hong Kong started sarcastically before his voice died in his throat. "Nah... Don't. I was a bit out of line there…"

Japan looked up, meeting the boy's dark eyes questioningly.

Hong Kong pursed his lips, raising his thick, foreign brows in thought. For a moment, Japan couldn't see those slightly slanted eyes, that dark choppy hair, that pale, thin face… he could see England. He could see England's stern yet open expression, England's quirk of the mouth, England's clasped fingers, England's straight posture, England's tilt of the neck-

Then, it disappeared and Japan could see how strongly Hong Kong resembled China.

"I just… don't really know who I am," Hong Kong twiddled his thumbs, "and it's been bugging me for a few days so… since you're my least favourite person, I, like took it out on you." He shrugged yet his shoulders slouched uncharacteristically.

"I understand."

But Japan's words sounded dead and flat to his own ears. Politeness was expected and he'd much rather keep the conversation with the boy civil until the boy would leave. Any spark of irritation that could've touched him was numb and null. He was too tired to react.

"No, you don't," Hong Kong said sourly. "Have you been passed around like a _thing_ your whole life? Think it easy, do you?"

"Hong Kong-san, I'm sure I am not the proper person to speak to about this-"

"See!" Hong Kong stood up, his fingers balled into trembling fists and his eyes pricking red once more, "you don't even _listen_- you don't even _want_ to listen! If you want to be a part of our fucked up family then _listen_!"

Improper, he wanted to say. Hold your tongue, he wanted to reprimand. Wash your mouth, he wanted to scold. But he didn't.

"Why did you come to me, Hong Kong-san?" Japan ran his eyes over the frozen pond, "you said it yourself, I am your least favourite person-"

"Fine, I'll cut to the chase then," Hong Kong sneered, "I caught a three our plane all the way here to bring you back to Beijing, ok?"

Japan swallowed but his throat felt tight and constricted. The tea in his hands stung against his cold palm. Where was the logic in that? That very question he should've asked himself the moment he saw the teen _finally_ surfaced. Where was the logic in that?

"You're spinning in circles," his voice was as tight as his chest. Why was it every time the teen spoke he wanted to explode? Every time a single word left the boy's lips he wanted to scream out in frustration because there was _no logic at all-!_ "What is going on? What is wrong Hong Kong-san?"

What was he playing at?

Japan sharply winced.

"_What do you want?"_

The teacup shattered against his fingers but he couldn't care. His voice carried over the icy emptiness around them, echoing in continuous desolate bitterness. He bit his lip, his heart jumping in his throat. His breath was ragged, needles pricking the side of his lungs with each cold breath. The teen didn't answer and Japan sharply snapped his eyes to the side, feeling utterly worthless when he could see shameless tears dripping down Hong Kong's face.

"I'm like, totally sorry, ok? I know I'm like, confusing you, but I swear, I like, don't- no one bloody understands what I'm going through- not even Macau and he's supposed to- but the idiot thought he could just walk in like he owned the place and-"

Hong Kong spluttered for a minute, a flush rising to his pale face before he rubbed his eyes with the thick sleeve of his hoodie hastily.

"I just don't know who I am," his voice was broken, "no one does… who am I, _Nihon?_ Who am I? Am I British owned? Am I Chinese? Am I my own? Am I yours?"

"I really have no time for this-" Japan stiffly stood up.

"I wanted to stay there!" Hong Kong's voice rose volumes. "I w-wanted to stay there, with him- but he just walked in and sent me to the airport the next morning like I was _nothing_! H-He didn't care how I felt but I cared- because to me, he was _my _brother!"

Japan stiffened, the blood gushing through his ears competing with the spluttering of the once composed, controlled Hong Kong.

"I liked that house- with India, Canada, Australia, N-New Zealand- I was raised to be English and t-then he sent me to a place so damn different-"

"You were always Chinese-"

Hong Kong hissed, "I lived with China when I was younger, but I _grew up_ with England- he _raised_ me not Gramps- I- I'm not happy here. I-I'm not happy anywhe…" his glare intensified, "then _you_ came out of nowhere with your ridiculous imperial dreams and thought yourself so high and mighty you- "

"_Mou ii yo-" _ he grabbed the Chinese teen from the scruff his shirt and pinned him against the tree, "_Enough! Enough! Enough-"_ with each word, he slammed the youth's back against the bark.

Everything felt hot and everything seemed darker- his eyes were looking through a hue of blood red so vivid and so sharply it enraged him- it burst through his veins and scalded against his skin- made him tense and stiffen and shake, wanting nothing more but to destroy with his bare hands from sheer fury-

He suddenly let go, his hands trembling madly, his eyes burning harshly-

Hong Kong was hunched against the stiff, bare tree, his arms weakly raised against his face in feeble defense. His eyes were wide- wide and terrified and shocked- and Japan was plunged sixty years ago to a time when fury controlled his every impulse. A time when they were nothing more but silent wanderers- tortured phantoms- in his dank house filled with hatred. The youth was frozen- unmoving- before he took in a wheezing gasp, constricted by shock and constricted by pain.

Japan could smell the blood clotting his nose, he could hear the screams of all those he slew, he could see the faces contorted and touch all the bulging, throbbing wounds so inhumane-

"I-I'm sorry…" when did his voice sound so harsh? When was he so cruel? W-what was wrong with him- "I'm sorry, I-"

No matter what he did- no matter how wrong and how big the mistakes he made when he was younger- China would always stand by the bamboo next to the small house they lived in, his posture relaxed and his eyes softened, waiting for him with that small smile of his as to say 'I forgive you'. But back then, his mistakes were never as big as the massacred desecration he had done at the height of his greed, and so he avoided that small house by the bamboo- avoided his family- avoided_ China- _because he was too scared he wouldn't see him standing, waiting for him with that small smile and those soft eyes.

The boy's shuddering breaths snapped him back to reality.

He could clearly remember Hong Kong- small, bright-eyed- standing by China and tugging at his sleeve wherever he went… that small, small boy who preferred to play in the paddy fields than sit for tea, or play with the matches and build small fireworks to see the night brighten with colour… However, that boy changed to a teenager caught in a limbo so culturally clashing- so severe- that Japan couldn't understand.

The youth's haughty stance was broken, his arrogance now bowed and Japan felt his stomach twist from how he helped destroy the once composed nation.

He took a step forward- the boy winced- before he gripped him from his shoulder and pulled him tight. He dug his fingers against the boy's back, pushing that too thin waist closer to his. Hong Kong was stiff- as tense as a rod unrelenting- before he slowly caved in, trying to stifle the small cries that spluttered from his mouth.

"I'm sorry," Japan's eyes were wide yet unseeing, "I'm sorry…" he could feel those fingers grip his kimono and the wetness soaking against his shoulder. It was like a dismal, dead chant from his chapped lips- a meaningless prayer for something ruined and gone.

No matter how different they were- no matter how far they were or how distant they had all become… he was still supposed to look out for his younger siblings. Something he failed to do before and something he dismally failed at right now.

He didn't know what do.

It felt like mere seconds, but Japan knew it was longer, until Hong Kong suddenly pulled away, his expression humiliated and etched with disbelief. He flustered with his sleeves, hastily rubbing away the traces of his tears and tried to constrict the adamant hiccups. He was muttering something too quick for Japan to understand… but something in him- something in his heart- pulled at him, telling him to say _something_ at least.

Anything…

"England-san…" Japan licked his chapped lips and sighed, "England-san lives alone now and China-san has changed in many ways… I won't tell you to change, nor will I tell you to be yourself. But I will tell you to adapt… because there's nothing else you can do."

Because China is going to remain communist and England is not as strong as he used to be. Because times are changing and wars are played differently than they used to be played. Because the world has changed, people have adapted and the past is already set and done.

Hong Kong looked away, eyes running over the icy pond and for a moment Japan felt the boy was going to simply walk away.

But Hong Kong nodded slowly before reluctantly meeting his eyes, "thanks."

It wasn't much, Japan knew that, but at least it was something and perhaps… perhaps that was what Hong Kong was looking for the whole time. The silence stretched as Hong Kong slowly continued nodding and Japan remained standing, awkwardly in the middle of his bare, icy forest.

"You've been promoted on my hate-o-meter," he never knew he'd be so relieved to see that annoying grin on the teens face, even if it was slightly worn out, "right above Hyung-Soo but under Russia."

"I find it quite hard to believe that you prefer Russia-san over me," Japan found himself pointlessly smiling.

"Russia's got cute sisters," shrugged Hong Kong. "Don't worry though, you're still far from the top." Hong Kong ran a hand into his pockets and pulled out a small crumpled piece of paper.

Japan blinked, taking the paper from the teen's cold hands… a plane ticket. To Beijing.

"We can make this year, like, worth it… and stuff."

For once, he actually agreed with the man. "Yes…" he felt his lips tugging, "we can."

* * *

_**AN: This chapter was meant to be half of what I posted just now... I even had the author's note ready with the whole 'I'm abandoning this story... jk, jk' bit but... oh well, I'll use that somewhere else.**_

_**Being from two different countries myself- though not as severely different as England and China are like poor Hong Kong has it- it does get a bit confusing and a bit heart wrenching at times (or that's what I feel anyway XD). So, though Hong Kong is part of China, it developed and flourished under British rule (hence, he grew under England) so Xiang/Leon is a part of both worlds yet really doesn't know where he fits. He where the "East meets West" so he's stuck in a limbo in the very in the middle.  
**_

_**Apart from that, it must be a bit frazzling to be taken from one side of the world (China) to the other side of the world (England) then back to the other side of the world (Japan) then back to that other side you were previously with (England) before you were handed over to where you were initially from anyway (China). So... the poor guy's had it rough.**_


	5. Chapter 5 of 5

**A Very Asian New Year**

* * *

Hong Kong's phone vibrated and he immediately pulled it out, scowling at the screen.

"Is it China-san?" Japan asked as pulled his suitcase along the car park.

His flight to Beijing, China, had been Korean-free, hence, there was a lack of suspicious security guards and flustered stewardesses. The seats were limited and Japan knew they were more than lucky to even find tickets on the fully-booked plane that was brimming with excitement for the Chinese New Year.

He was on a plane back to Beijing when he had just come back from it.

This was probably the most illogical thing that he had ever done. But somehow… this illogical turn of events seemed completely logical.

"It's Korea," Hong Kong replied before bringing the phone to his ears, "Hey."

"_Where are you da-ze?! You said you were going for a walk not a marathon to the Antartic! Aniki thinks you were hit by a bus filled with those weird western tourists!"_

Korea's voice had the inane ability to wave its way through the crowds.

"I'm on my way back, alright? I just bumped into some annoying old man who thought he was a ninja," Hong Kong shot him a conceited smirk, "bloody illusioned he was."

"_Ninja?! You mean from Ninja Assassin- not fair-"_

"Give me a few minutes, ok?"

"_It's late, Xiang- aniki's hyperventilating! Vietnam's going to smash his brains out with the paddle if you don't come before midnight da-ze!"_

"Midnight's an hour away, I'll be there-"

"_But it's traffic! You won't make it- we're going to have to prepare a funeral now! Ugh, funerals did _not_ originate in Korea, because we would've made it super cool revival ceremonies where people are rebirthed from fire to get reunited with lost lovers-"_

"I see originality didn't originate in Korea, did it?"

"_Wha-? Oh, think you're a smart saekki? Well- NO VIETNAM! DON'T KILL ANIKI-"_

The line sung dead and Hong Kong pocketed it with an exasperated sigh, "well, get in the car."

"They think you're talking a walk?" Japan blinked.

"Do you think they'll let me out the house if I tell them I'm going to take a plane to Japan and grab his sorry ass all the way back here even though I don't really like him that much? Pfft, I thought you were smart. Apparently it originated in Korea then, didn't it?"

Had Hong Kong said that three days ago when he first picked him up from the airport, Japan would've pursed his lips and stiffly replied with a few short, curt words while his mind buzzed with irritancy. However, this time, he couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"Come on!" Hong Kong huffed, "get in the car before China kills himself."

* * *

It was impossible, thought Japan, completely impossible to get to China's flat in Beijing in less than an hour. But with the speed at which Hong Kong was driving- no, _flying_ at- Japan started to severely doubt every single law in physics.

And the Chinese traffic laws.

And England's parenting skills.

And Hong Kong's sanity.

Hong Kong slammed his car next to a subway station and pulled out Japan's suitcase from the back before grabbing the car-sick Japanese out into the station. He raced down the aisles, pushing between the people for tickets, arguing with the policemen like a rogue, fingering far off guards, expertly shifting between trains while Japan felt his own soul leave his body from exhaustion, stress and sheer, raw panic.

"Gramps is so going to pay me for what I'm doing," Hong Kong muttered as he threw Japan's suitcase out of the metro and into the crowd of furious people, "come _on,_ Nihon!"

Japan stumbled out of the metro, his stomach twisting and churning, his hand firmly over his mouth.

He was not going to vomit. He was not going to-

He ducked into a trashcan, spilling out all the tea he had drunk a few hours ago.

"God, you're all bloody old men!" Hong Kong shook his head with disapproval, "get a move on- new year is in fifteen minutes!"

"I-I'm on my-"

Japan wretched again, gripping his throbbing head dismally. Hong Kong grabbed his arm the minute he straightened from his crouch to the bin, and sprinted between the hoards of people collected in the subway, ducking under lavish decorations and pushing past policemen too occupied by lost children and sobbing mothers.

The cold air whipped him across his face, making him feel more nauseous that he already was. His stomach tightened and Japan wanted nothing more than to sit under his kotatsu in a small fetal position and not leave the house in days.

People were everywhere- _everywhere_- and he felt everything close in on him.

Suddenly, a door was slammed shut and the sound of an elevator running between the walls was all he heard. He didn't know he had his eyes shut nor did he know that his arms shielded his face, but when he opened them and uncurled from his standing fetal position, he noticed that they were in the lobby of a building.

"We're… we're here?"

"Lucky gramps lives close to the subway, right?" Hong Kong said as he watched the numbers on the screen above the elevator doors. He quickly checked his watch and gave Japan a small triumphant smile, "New year in seven minutes."

_Ding._

Japan was thrown into the elevator from the sleeve of his shirt, his suitcase close behind, before Hong Kong punched in a number and the elevator started to rise. Japan tightened his arms across his chest, tugging at the collar of his coat. Well, this was going to be unbelievably awkward, walking back in… what was he thinking, going back to his family that he very well humiliated himself in front of?

He remembered China's betrayed face, Taiwan's tears and Macau's disappointment as he was pulled behind the Chinese teen to the apartment doors. Why was he continuously making the same stupid mistake, coming back every single time-

"Japan-aru?!"

Japan snapped out of his thoughts. A mere inch away was China's surprised face, his eyes widened and his mouth hanging open.

"China-san-" Japan clamped his mouth shut before lowly bowing, "I apologize for all the inconvenience I caused-"

Suddenly, he felt himself pulled into a tight embrace, the Chinese man holding him so tight Japan was sure his bones were going to merge. He expected panic to flare through his veins- he expected his heart to jitter in his chest making him burst away from his tightened self-control… but he didn't. For the first time in so many years, he threw his arms back against _his own brother_ and pulled the man towards him. Maybe it was the chaotic turn of events, maybe it was the plane pressure that reached his brain, maybe it was nauseous feeling in his stomach… but it felt right.

He pulled away in time to see Macau smiling as he pulled away from an awkward looking Hong Kong and Taiwan run down the corridor, her smile so wide and so bright he found himself laughing in spite of it all.

"Japan!" Korea burst through the kitchen door in his usual whirlwind of energy. "So, Xiang got you in time, da-ze! I never thought he'd actually do it! I was ready for aniki to spend the night with me!"

"Don't say things like that aru!" China flushed.

"We're all happy that Japan decided to come along, but I think you're going to miss your 'celebration' if you hang around the door like puppies," Vietnam casually stated from where she stood by the kitchen, her paddle slung over her shoulder. "Good you came along, though," she said, sending him a firm, approving nod.

Japan tried to bite down his smile before he caught Hong Kong smirking at him from where he stood by his brother. That smirk didn't seem as annoying as he once thought it'd be…

"New Years starts in two minutes aru!" China exclaimed.

"THE FIREWORKS, DA-ZE!" Korea cried out. "_To the balcony aniki!" _

He grabbed the shorter man ecstatically, ignoring the waving arms and struggles of the Chinese, and proceeded to pull him manically to the open balcony by the dinner table that held an assortment of celebratory foods. Japan noticed a few traditional Chinese dishes meant for New Year, some Korean Tteokguk and Vietnamese Bánh chưng_… _along with a small box full of Osechi Ryori.

Japan bit his lip.

He didn't know what to say.

"Kiku!" Taiwan called from the balcony where all of them were standing by, "less than a minute left, come on!"

He didn't care about confining his emotions, he didn't care about propriety and privacy. Because no matter what he did and no matter what he had done… they loved him. And he… he knew that somewhere, deep inside of him, he loved them more than he could ever admit. It would take time, he thought as he quickly made his way to the balcony, it would take a long time before he would openly show them how much he cared… but at least his first step was now firmly planted and he could start this new year- though it was different from his own- with difference.

He was happy.

"_Ten seconds!" _Taiwan squealed.

China's face, glowing as he looked at each of his siblings, made him grip the man strongly from the shoulder. China's hand firmly came on his own.

"_Five!"_

Hong Kong's eyes searched the skies and Macau stood by him, his arm perched around his brother.

"_Four!"_

Korea was hastily scrolling through his phone, his eyes running from side to side in lightning speed.

"_Three!"_

Vietnam heaved a relaxed sigh as she leaned over the banister, her paddle behind her, the corners of her lips slightly rising.

"_Two!"_

China's fingers never weakened from their grip on his.

_BLAST._

The cheers of his family burst alongside the cheers of the people, loud and joyous and jubilant, as colours of red, blue, green and gold soared across the skies and burst amidst the stars. He could hear a variety of languages in greeting, a variety of voices laughing as well as different arms gripping him into tight embraces while his own smile was recklessly on his face. It was a short moment- labelled quick by joy- that he was sure he'd remember through the days time would pass. However, a sudden hush fell on them and Japan questioningly looked around.

Why the quiet-

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"_An nyoung ha seh yo?"_

A voice he hadn't heard in over fifty years came from the speaker of Korea's Samsung. Said Korean was staring at the phone in his hands, his lip quivering from its wide, wide smile while his eyes, in complete contrast, were burning. His breaths were unstable, either from excitement, fear or disbelief, but he swallowed, straightened up and replied.

"Hyung Soo?"

The voice on the other line remained silent and for a moment, even the firecrackers ceased with tense anticipation.

"_Im Yong Soo_?"

Korea gave a small, disbelieving laugh, "I-It's Seol-Nal and… I wanted… I wanted to wish you good luck."

For a moment, Japan was too scared the person on the other line would either slam the phone shut or shout a raging insult.

"_Hay boke-mahn he pah du say oh_," North Korea replied. "_Da-ze_."

When the phone line went dead and Korea ended the call, Japan backed away as the rest of his siblings edged towards the Korean who had rivulets of silver running down his pale cheeks.

"Yong Soo?" Hong Kong softly placed a hand on the man's shoulder, peering up at him.

However, Korea immediately laughed aloud, throwing his head back as bursts of fireworks shot into the skies, pouring silver and gold across the opaque curtains of the night.

"Joy originated in Korea, da-ze!"

As China ushered them back inside the house and placed the finishing touches of food and drinks on the table- his legendary jiaozi, niangao and fish in huge proportions- and Macau answered a video call from a worn out Thailand who wanted to wish them all a good year (his elephant was right behind him, waving his trunk in the middle of a ruined living room). Japan sat by an ecstatic Korea and a smiling Vietnam, quickly replaying all that happened all that had become.

They may not be the most coordinated family… they may not be whole. But, with the way things were slowly turning out- this happiness in his chest- he prayed with all his heart, he thanked with very fibre in his body, for the blessing he had.

This year would be a good one.

China beamed at him, "more rice, aru?"

_Yes_, he agreed as he extended his bowl to be filled and took one of the dumplings offered to him from Macau, _this year would be a good one. _

* * *

**AN: **_This is the first time I've ever finished a multi-chapter story! Anyway, I'd love to thank every single person who review, favourited and alerted my story- thank you so, so much! You may think they were small actions, but to me, they were unbelievable support! I hope this chapter fit and reached your expectations!**  
**_

**NEWS ALERT: **_This isn't the end! *sort of*. I'm going to be posting a '**sequel**' soon (probably a week or two) under the name **A Very Asian Vacation  **(name is still under consideration...). I think it will a bit tad bit lighter than this story- which took an unexpected twist to angst and tears that took me by surprise as well XD__. If there's anything you'd like to see in my future Asian story(ies) or any ideas you'd like to share, then feel free to tell me :) It's fun to write about the Asian family- they're such a unique, lovable group filled with so much character and I absolutely adore them, so expect more Asian fics from me!_

_Translations:_

___An nyoung ha seh yo? (korean): Hello (i think it's a formal way of saying it)  
_

___Seol Nal (Korean): it's the Korean New Year, which is on the same day as the Chinese New Year since they both follow the lunar calender._

_____Hay boke-mahn he pah du say oh_ (Korean): "please receive many new year's blessings" or you can think of it as an equivalent to "Have a blessed New Year".  


___Tteokguk (Korean): rice-cakes which are usually eaten at new year_

___Bánh chưng (Vietnamese): A type of Vietnamese rice-cake eaten at new years_

_Osechi Ryor (Japanese): traditional Japanese new year foods _

_jiaozi (Chinese): it's usually made by the Northern Chinese and it looks like a shoe-shaped gold/silver ingot; Niangao (Chinese): Southern Chinese make them, it's basically New Year cakes. Since China's the whole nation's representation, I'm sure he'd have northern and southern cuisines at his table! _


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